One of the things I like most about my son’s school, Pace Academy, is that they offer so many resources not only for the students but also for the parents. Having such great resources is a blessing that not every school has and fortunately, Pace seems to use their resources wisely. Last Sunday, the school brought in Andre Robert Lee a filmmaker who created a documentary called “The Prep School Negro.”

Before showing the film, Mr. Lee asked the audience to think about what we expected to see and then after we saw it compare what we saw to our expectations. What I expected to see was students dealing with tough financial issues–perhaps they were given scholarships but couldn’t afford field trips or designer clothes like the other students wore.

But rather than a just a series of interviews (as the film was originally intended) Mr. Lee took us on his journey back to his private school days as he tried to sort out what it all meant. We see interviews with his old teachers who loved him dearly and a father who didn’t. We watch as his sister tells us that the prep school took him away from his family and then we see it happen before our eyes as he joins a family during college that feels like a better fit. We see his mother die and his sister rise.

I didn’t see what I was expecting to see. Instead I saw one man’s story that had such universal elements that as a white woman, I could identify with his issues and emotions. But what I saw was also heartbreaking. I saw students who had to leave one identity at home in their community and assume new speech, mannerisms, and clothing to assimilate into their schools where they found the hope that was missing at home.

In one class the students were discussing a book and the teacher asked them to describe what being white felt like. One young man responded by saying something like, “I am not white so I don’t know, but I know that it’s a privilege to be born white and not all of us are born with that privilege.” When I heard that comment I gasped. The young man’s words didn’t just break my heart, they tore it to shreds as if it had been forced through a cheese grater.

A privilege to be white?

That comment hurt on so many levels. First, I felt so sad for this boy and for his lack of self-esteem about his own culture and heritage. But more than that I felt sad for me, how I take for granted all the things I’ve been given as a white American. But most of all, I felt ashamed of the ways I’ve made those around me feel like they are less–for any reason.

Don’t think that this film is depressing–it’s not–despite the fact that so many of the issues Mr. Lee talks about haven’t been resolved. Rather, the movie is inspiring. Mr. Lee shows great courage in telling his own personal story in a raw and compelling way that we can all relate to. There are characters in the movie, like his sister and mother, who simultaneously make us laugh, cry, and wish we could change the world.

Check out the trailer on his website. See the film if you can. But most of all don’t be afraid to ask “outsiders” about their story. If I learned one thing during this film and the talk-back, it’s that we all want to share our story, some of us just have less power than others to do it.

Mr. Lee says, “This is a film dedicated to anyone that has ever felt like other,” and I know that I have often felt like other.

How about you? Have you ever felt like you were other?

~Jennifer